How the Doctor Got His Wings
by Grizziesmom
Summary: Heaven is missing an Archangel. What if that angel needed to hide in plain sightfrom his brothers and sisters in heaven? Where would he go? Who would be a Vessel strong enough to hide him?
1. Conversation with an Archangel

**Hello All! This is a new foray for me! Love the Doctor Who series to no end, but have never written for him (he is WAY too complicated with his story and background to fairly do him justice). This started out as a crossover of sorts based on a piece I saw on DevianArt. I hate that I can't reference it due to FF's issues with .coms, so I'll be posting it on DA as well. This is based off a little snippet in Supernatural about a missing Archangel which ****comes from the season 8 episode "A Little Slice of Kevin." Transcript below:**

KEVIN: Hold on. This is different. It's – it's not text. It's like a personal note?  
CROWLEY: A personal note from God?  
KEVIN: From... the archangel... Metatron.  
CROWLEY: The scribe... and suck-up. Took down God's word, picked up his cleaning.  
KEVIN: It's like a – a farewell note.  
CROWLEY: Go on.  
KEVIN: "Upon completion of this task, I take my leave of my master in this world."  
KEVIN: "So ends the transcription of the sacred word for the defense of mankind. Into the hands of God's children thus passes the compendium of tablets."

**The questions then became: Why the Doctor? When and why then?**

**With those questions in mind, I started watching for moments. This particular moment is during "Stolen Earth", one of the last of the Doctor 10 series. ****Hopefully all questions will be answered as we explore "How the Doctor Got his Wings" ****Let me know what you think as this IS only the first chapter!**

**Sorry for the long A/N. Like I said, writing the Doctor is much more complicated than Sherlock or Arrow!**

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The Tandocca Trail led them to the Medusa Cascade…and then…nothing. He didn't know what to do. His planet Earth was still missing…still lost. All those he loved, all those who had been a part of his life for even a little time were in a place not their home. He had absolutely no way of finding them…absolutely no way of getting them home. He heard Donna asking questions, crying at the loss of her family, but he suddenly was unable to respond.

"Hello, Doctor," the voice said in the middle of his head.

"Hello? Who is this? Why are you in my head?" he asked in his head, "Are you the Dream Lord? Why am I talking to myself?"

"You're not talking to yourself. I am not your Dream Lord," The voice replied, "I am Metatron, Archangel of the Lord."

"Which Lord? 'Cause if you're-" he stopped and thought about that, "Wait! Did you say Archangel?"

"Yes, child," the apparent Archangel said, "I am Metatron. I am an Archangel of God, the Father of all."

"Um, sorry, but I don't believe in God, gods, goddesses," he said bitterly, "The Time Lords were the most godlike I know and they're all dead."

"Just because you personally don't believe in us doesn't mean we don't know and believe in you," the angel said benevolently.

"O….kay…" the Doctor replied, irritated by this distraction when he should be finding a way to find Earth, "Why are we having this conversation in the first place?"

"I need a Vessel and I've chosen you."

"A Vessel? You want to possess me?" the Doctor asked incredulously. The nerve of some people…angels…

"In a matter of speaking. Let's call it more like hitching a ride."

"Wot?!"

"The Father is gone. Heaven is falling apart at the seams. I must hide from my brothers and sisters or be murdered."

"By your brothers and sisters? Really?" he asked. This sounded more like his life on Gallifrey. His brothers and sisters had also wanted him dead…or wanted him to take over. He had, but not in the way they had expected.

"Yes, really, Doctor."

"Why?"

"I sat on the throne next to God. I was his scribe, the keeper of the Akashic record or 'Book of Life'. But he is gone now. My brothers and sisters who vie for the throne see me as an obstacle to His power. Others wish me to take that throne. I want none of it."

"Why me?"

"You have the ability…your species has the ability to let me live in you yet not overwhelm you as we do with the human race."

"They are a frail lot," he agreed.

"Yes, they are."

"So when would this need to happen?" he asked. He couldn't believe that he was seriously considering this…this offer. But there were terms…conditions…

"The sooner, the better. But soon is all relative, as you know."

"Yes…Yes, I do."

"There are things we can do together…great things," Metatron said. Then to hit home, he said, "You would never be alone again."

"Never? I never am alone. I have my companions," he said smugly.

"And they all leave," Metatron said in the same smug tone, "I would not."

"But I have my companions now."

"And when they leave? For they will leave…"

"I know," the Doctor responded sadly.

"I will watch. I will wait."

Suddenly, he heard the mobile ring…Martha's mobile. He was suddenly able to move and he suddenly had a way to find Earth. He searched his brain for Metatron. He felt the Archangel's wing brush his face. There would be time for further conversation later.

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_Yay! Off we go on an adventure! Again, let me know what you think! Honestly, if you have questions or want questions answered, I'd be happy to address them, so fire away! Oh, and Reviews are love!_


	2. The Loss of Companions

The Doctor watched as his human duplicate kissed Rose. It was something he'd always wanted to do. But to do that, to show her his true feelings, to love her as she deserved to be loved would have destroyed them both. It hurt to literally see himself and yet another man kissing her. But Donna had been right. He had given Rose the best gift he could ever give her: the part of himself that could love her without killing her. Before the couple broke from their kiss, he and Donna walked in the TARDIS and locked the door.

When Donna's brain began to overload, the other shoe dropped, so to speak.

Dalek Caan had said "One will still die…"

He knew if he didn't act quickly, Donna would die. She begged to not leave him. But he dare not leave her in the state she was in. She begged to not have to go back to her old life. But to not take her there would be to allow her death. He could not allow that to happen. Not to Donna. Not to the one companion who was more like him than any of them had ever been…and that was before the meta-crisis.

He could not allow her to die, so he took her memories. Any memory that had to do with him he wiped from her brain. It hurt to take himself from her memory. It hurt to wipe the sister, partner, best friend she had become. He died a little as he wiped all trace of who he was to her and what she was to him.

The moment he said goodbye and she barely reacted was almost as much of a stab to his two hearts as seeing Rose kiss his human duplicate. He walked out into the cold, cold rain and let his tears fall. Wilfred couldn't see them with the water running down his face, but somehow, the old man knew.

"…every night, Doctor, when it gets dark and the stars come out, I'll look up on her behalf," Wilfred said, tears gathering in his own eyes, "I'll look up at the sky and think of you."

"Thank you."

It was all he could say. Any other words would have sounded wrong at that moment, and he didn't think he could get much more than that out anyway. He stepped into the TARDIS and she took off…to where, he didn't know and didn't really care. As he took off his jacket, now completely soaked from the rain, he looked up into the sky, hidden by the mechanism of the TARDIS and called to the Archangel.

"Metatron," he screamed, "you're a bastard!"

"Doctor," the Archangel said in his head, "you knew this was coming."

"They always leave. I get it. But damn it," he said, the tears he hadn't shed for years falling down his face, "both in the same day? The two I loved in two different ways? We could have been perfect together, the three of us. One who was my hearts and the other who was my soul. And now, I'm alone again."

"You have me."

"You aren't what I want. You aren't what I need!" he bellowed. He didn't really know what he needed. He just wanted nothing to do with this creature who wanted to possess him.

"I don't want to possess, Doctor," the Archangel said sweetly, "I want to live."

"Live?" the Doctor said in confusion.

"With you as my Vessel," Metatron said, "I can enjoy the world that my Father created, learn the Universe you insist he didn't. All the things I wrote about in the 'Book of Life' will be ours to see and enjoy."

"I've seen most of them," the Doctor said peevishly, "I don't want to see them alone."

"You won't," Metatron said, "You'll see them with fresh eyes, like you've never seen them before."

"I can get a companion to do that."

"But you're alone now."

"Just shut up," the Doctor said grumpily.

"For now," Metatron said. The Doctor could swear he heard the angel smirk. He continued, "I'll wait. I've been around a very long time, Doctor. I am nothing, if not patient."

The wings brushed the back of his hand in comfort. The Doctor knew the Archangel would never give up on him…and that made him feel a little bit lighter.

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_As always...reviews make DocWatson happy...oh, me, too!_


	3. The Next Doctor

**I've decided our beautiful Doctor must have had good reason to deny Metatron for so long...what do you think?**

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"…the time and the space…" the gentleman said wistfully as he spoke about his version of TARDIS, a simple hot air balloon.

"The perfect escape," the Doctor said sadly, "Do you ever wonder what you're escaping from?"

"With every moment," he responded.

"Then do you want me to tell you?" the Doctor asked, "'Cause I think I worked it out now…How you became the Doctor. What do you think? Do you want to know?"

When he told Jackson who he was, he denied it. He believed Jackson Lake was dead.

"What you suffered us called a fugue…a fugue state…where the mind just runs away because it can't bear to look back. You wanted to become something else, because Jackson Lake had lost so much…"

It hurt him to have to tell Jackson those things, but it also made him feel better that he wasn't going to lose his memories.

When the CyberKing erupted from the Thames and all hell broke loose in London (again), he sent Jackson and his son away.

"Just head south! Take him south! Go to the parkland!"

"But where are you going?" Jackson had asked, gently cradling his son against him.

"To stop that thing!"

"But I should be with you!" Jackson protested.

"Jackson, you've got your son. You've got a reason to live!"

"And you haven't?" Jackson asked seriously.

The Doctor looked at him sadly. No, he really didn't have a reason to live. But he had so many reasons to die trying to save this world. When he didn't really respond, Jackson sighed.

"God save you, Doctor."

The Doctor actually felt like crying at the sadness in Jackson's voice. He turned and ran toward Jackson's TARDIS. He angrily brushed a tear from his cheek as he found Jed in the barn and had to pay the lad to help him.

He grinned cheekily as the CyberKing disappeared into the Void. The silence that suddenly surrounded him was peaceful, but it only invited his thoughts of what could have been. It had been a close call…well, not really a close call. But it had given him an insight that he had not expected. He had truly thought, at first anyway, that Jackson was his next regeneration. The idea of losing his memories, losing himself had frightened him more than a bit. But the idea of losing his memories of those he loved and lost had a kind of twisted appeal.

"I can make that happen, if you wish," Metatron said out of nowhere.

"Wot?"

"If you want me to block the memories of those you lost, I can do that. I can only do it once without severe damage, but I can do that once we have melded."

While it appealed deep down into his core, he knew that each and every one of his lost companions, especially Rose…especially Donna, were the reason he was who he had become. He had once been serious, angry and dark. Without his companions, especially without Rose, he could become that again…or worse. He wasn't ready to lose that part of himself, the part that was most human. He had worked too hard to become the creature he was, to rid himself of his terrible past.

Before he could honestly respond, the Doctor heard the cheers and applause below him. He looked down and saw Jackson and the people of London looking up at him and clapping and yelling…for him…thanking him.

"Well," he said out loud, "that's a first!"

He turned his thoughts back to Metatron, "I'm sorry, Metatron, but I'm just not ready. I don't know that I will ever be ready."

"You shall be, eventually, Doctor," the Archangel said softly, his invisible wings wrapping gently around the Doctor's shoulders, "You will be sooner than you know."

The Doctor shivered at the tender touch and set to finding a way to land Jackson's balloon.

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_Thoughts? Ideas? Questions? Please review and let me know!_


	4. Conversations in a Cafe

**Finally! Another chapter of this monster is done! This is the first part of such a sad sad episode of Doctor Who...I hated this story line...I hated this ending...but it made sense in a way...especially if you imagin an Archangel sitting on his shoulder asking to be let in!**

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Donna's grandfather, Wilfred Mott had found him in the middle of a wasteland in the middle of nowhere and then dragged him from that middle of nowhere to a sad little café. This man who had been family of one companion and had briefly become a companion was still a mystery to him. They sat at the table talking, but his mind was on the Master. And the prophecy. He was going to die. He didn't want to die.

"Oh, we had some good times, didn't we though?" the old man was saying with a grin, "I mean, all those ATMOS things, and planets in the sky, and me with that paint gun," the joy in his face dropped suddenly as he continued, taking a deep breath, "I keep seeing things, Doctor. I-, uh- This face at night."

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked him suddenly, a look of concern and confusion on his face.

"I'm Wilfred Mott," he replied seriously.

"No," the Doctor replied, "People have waited hundreds of years to find me and then you manage it in a few hours."

There was something…someone who had made it possible for this man to find him. He couldn't figure out who…or why.

"Well, I'm just lucky I suppose," Wilfred replied.

"No, we keep on meeting, Wilf," he said, trying to explain that everything happened for a reason, whether he wanted it to or not, "Over and over again like something's still connecting us."

"What's so important about me?" Wilfred asked honestly.

"Exactly. Why you?" he asked, not being cruel, but really wanting to know. The look on Wilfred's face told him that the earthling had no idea why either. He looked away, out into the street, trying to come to grips with what he had been told. He stated sadly, "I'm going to die."

"Well, so am I, one day," Wilf said, trying to cheer him up.

"Don't you dare," the Doctor replied, rolling his eyes.

"All right, I'll try not to," he responded with a chuckle.

"But I was told," he said, the tears gathering in his eyes, "He will knock four times," he took a deep breath, "That was the prophecy. Knock four times, and then…"

"Yeah, but I thought, when I saw you before," Wilf said, leaning forward, "you said your people could change, like, your whole body."

"I can still die," the Doctor answered, "If I'm killed before regeneration, then I'm dead," he leaned forward and spoke to the air above Wilf's head. He knew Wilf might not understand, but that ever-present Angel on his shoulder would, "Even then, even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away, and I'm dead."

He looked at the sadness in Wilf's face change as he looked out the window.

"What?" he said as he turned to look. There, on the street at her car, he saw Donna. Wilf tried to convince him that he needed to go to her, but he knew he couldn't…as much as he wanted to…he couldn't. The fiancé was there and she seemed happy enough.

"Is she happy? Is he nice?" he asked Wilf.

"Yeah, he's sweet enough," Wilf said, "He's a bit of a dreamer. Mind you, he's on minimum wage, she's earning tuppence, so all they can afford is a tiny little flat. And then sometimes I see this look on her face, like she's so sad, but she can't remember why."

"She's got him," the Doctor said, not without a little bit of jealousy. He and Donna could have been together forever, flying the stars…but now she was there, across the street, yelling at a traffic warden with the man she was going to marry.

"She's making do," Wilf said.

"Aren't we all?" the doctor asked.

"Yeah, how about you?" Wilf asked him politely, "Who have you got now?"

"No one," the Doctor said, "Travelling alone…I thought it was better…But I did some things," he couldn't stop the tears from spilling over, "It went wrong…I need…"

"Oh, my word. I'm sorry," Wilf said quietly, trying to reach out for him.

He felt Metatron's wings against his face and he inhaled deeply. Inwardly, he yelled, _'Not right now, you wanker!'_ He mentally and emotionally shook himself and it translated into a physical motion as well.

"Merry Christmas," he said with a weak smile.

"Yeah, and you," Wilf said on a laugh. He laughed as well, trying to lighten things.

"Look at us," he said shaking his head slightly.

"But don't you see?" Wilf said sadly, "You know, you need her, Doctor. I mean, look. Wouldn't she make you laugh again? Good old Donna?"

He watched as Donna drove off with her boyfriend. Inside, his hearts said _'Yes, I need her. She kept me sane when Rose left. Yes, I need her. She made me laugh. Yes, I need her._ _She was the one person who ever kept me from going too far…'_, but his brain, his logic, his understanding of time and space said, _'No. She will die. So, no.'_

He couldn't respond to Wilf's questions. It hurt too much to say "yes" and it would have killed him to say "no". He threw his overcoat back on and stormed out of the café without another word, without a backward glance. He had things that needed to be done. He needed to find The Master. He needed to meet his fate head on, not run like a coward, as much as he wanted to. In his head he heard, _'Soon, my child. Soon.'_

He stopped at that.

"Why?" he asked the Archangel, "Why me? Why now?"

"This life is ending," Metatron said to him, "I will be a part of you but you will hardly know I'm there."

"That doesn't answer my question," he said angrily, "Why me? Why do you want to be with…inhabit…use me?"

"The other that is like you is mad," Metatron said softly.

"The Master," the Doctor said sadly.

"Yes," came the response, "his madness makes him unsuitable."

"If he weren't mad?"

"I would still not have him as a vessel."

"Why not? He's here, which is something he wasn't before."

"Exactly," Metatron said, "He's an abomination. He is what should not be. His madness is compounded by the fact that his physical body has been dead and has been brought back. His body could not contain me and his mind would burn up trying to control me. He is not suitable. Only you are suitable."

"I don't want to be suitable."

"I know, child. But you will want me with you in the end."

"You know what's coming."

"Yes," Metatron said, "Something that was yet should not be. Something that was yet never was. Something of the past and future but not the present. But you are here to stop it. You must go through this before our time together will happen."

"The prophecy said I will die," he said, "I don't want to die."

"I know, my child," Metatron said on a sad sigh, "and I will help your soul to not die. That is all I can promise."

"Well, a fat lot of good that'll do me," the Doctor groused as he topped the hill into the pit where he knew the Master lie in wait.

"Beware of the mad one, Doctor," Metatron said, "he is more than he would seem."

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_Next chapter up in a moment! This ending had to be written all at once for my sanity! As usual. R&R is always happily accepted!_


	5. Endings

**As I said in the previous A/N, I hated this episode. I really didn't...I actually really loved it...but it makes me cry every freaking time! The ending of MY Doctor kills me...but I like what DocWatson has come up with here...hope you do too! Doctor 11 is off and running...It took me a really long time to like Matt Smith's Doctor. Obsessed as I am about the fantastic and brilliant David Tennant, Smith's lucky I love the Doctor more than any old actor...But this is where this story ends...perhaps, once I've caught up on all the OTHER fandoms I have promised stories to, I will come back and continue this story or write a sequel...I also have a couple of other DW ideas...but DocWatson has promised that I may work on his and Sherlock's as well as TomOllie's stories...so...away we go!**

**PS: Thanks so much for all your support and wonderful comments about this story!**

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The fall broke nearly every bone in his body. Even a Time Lord has his limits, but he knew that his only way of stopping the Master was to literally crash his party. He knew it would take a bit for his body to recover from the impact, but he was there. Hopefully, he would be able to talk the Master out of the madness.

"But this is fantastic, isn't it? The Time Lords restored!" the Master cooed.  
"You weren't there in the final days of the War," the Doctor replied sadly, "You never saw what was born...but if the Timelock's broken, then everything's coming through. Not just the Daleks, but the Skaro Degradations…the Horde of Travesties…the Nightmare Child…the Could-have-been King with his army of Meanwhiles and Never-weres. The War turned into hell…and that's what you've opened, right above the Earth. Hell is descending."

"Yes, my child," came the Archangel's voice unbidden, "Hell is descending. The time is near."

"Really?" the Doctor replied in his head sarcastically, "I never would have guessed!"

"My kind of world!" the Master said, his madness taking over again.

"Just listen!" the Doctor yelled at the Master, trying to get him to see reason, "Because even the Time Lords can't survive that!"

"I can help, child," Metatron said softly, "Let me help. Your time is near."

"I don't need you!" the Doctor yelled in his head.

"But you do," he heard Metatron say with slyly, "I can help you survive this and you can barely move. Let me show you."

The Doctor felt the push of feathers against his head. The presence surrounded him and filled him and entered him through the pores in his skin.

"I thought you couldn't take over without my permission," the Doctor yelled as an overwhelming sense of warmth and well-being took over.

"Normally, I can't," the Archangel said, "However, as you are clearly in mortal danger due to the injuries you inflicted in that jump, I can override that little rule."

Metatron took control and suddenly, the broken bones were mending. Suddenly, the excruciating pain that he hadn't even realized he was feeling was gone. He felt himself rise and grab the gun and point it at Lord Rassilon.

"No!" the Doctor yelled. He felt he was yelling too much, especially since it really was all in his head, "You can't!"

"What were you going to do with it, Doctor?" the angel asked, "If not to shoot him, was it to shoot…him?"

Metatron spun his body around to face the Master and snapped the gun in place to take aim.

"Well, yes, but-" the Doctor stammered, "But no! I don't use guns! Guns are so permanent."

"Yet you have this one," the Archangel said, flipping back around to aim the gun at Rassilon once again, "Who do you think should die, Doctor? This is your choice."

"If it's my choice, give me bloody control," he said in a strong but quiet voice. Metatron had been watching the Doctor long enough to know that that particular inflection was deadly to those who didn't heed it. He had no fear of the Doctor, but gave him control anyway. It was then that they both saw the woman behind Rassilon, _'Mother'_ came the Doctor's unbidden thought, lower her eyes and look over the Doctor's shoulder. Metatron felt the moment when the Doctor made his decision.

The Doctor turned and aimed the gun at the Master once again.

"Get out of the way," he growled at the Master. The Master moved and the Doctor shot at the Whitepoint Star housed in the machine. The bullet pierced the diamond and the machine exploded. The Time Lords behind Rassilon disappeared.

"The link is broken," the Doctor yelled, turning back to the Lord President, "Back into the Time War, Rassilon! Back into hell!"

"You'll die with me, Doctor," Rassilon said as he raised his hand.  
"I know," the Doctor said sadly.

"There is still time, my child," Metatron said softly. The Doctor could feel his control slipping again. He could feel Metatron's need to take over his body and make something happen.

"No," he replied to the Archangel, "if this is where I die, then it is meant to be."

"It isn't," Metatron said as the Master came up beside the Doctor.

"Get out of the way," the Master said. The Doctor stepped aside for the Master as watched the energy bolts release from the Master's hands.

" You did this to me! All of my life! You made me!" he screamed at Rassilon, stepping closer with each bolt he sent into the Time Lord, "One! Two! Three! Four!"

Rassilon was forced to his knees. The force of the earthquake knocked the Doctor off his feet. He watched from the marble floor as the Time Lords and the Master disappeared in a flash of bright light and energy. He rolled from his back to his side and suddenly realized something.

"I'm alive," he said quietly, "I've- There was- I'm still alive!"

He started laughing as he got to his knees. He had survived the prophecy, to his great surprise. Then, he heard: knock, knock, knock, knock. And his hearts stopped.

"I'm sorry, child," Metatron said sorrowfully, "I'm so so sorry."

Knock, knock, knock, knock. The end had not come. Knock, knock, knock, knock. But it was about to come. He turned and sat on his haunches to see Wilfred in the control booth. Knock, knock, knock, knock. He looked over at Wilf and Wilf waved.

"They gone, then? Yeah?" he asked, "Good-o. If you could let me out?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said on a sigh, the tears gathering in his eyes for a different reason now. He was dead. He didn't want to die.

"Only, this thing seems to be making a bit of a noise," Wilfred said, the fear growing in his voice a little.

"The Master left the Nuclear Bolt running," the Doctor said as he stood, "It's gone into overload."

"And that's bad, is it?"

"No," he said honestly, standing in front of the booth, "because all the excess radiation gets vented inside there. Vinvocci glass…contains it," It hurt him to look at Wilf. He knew what he had to do, but it was killing him. He really didn't want to die, but he wasn't going to let Wilf die in his place. "All five hundred thousand rads, about to flood that thing."

"Oh," Wilf said, understanding what he was in for, "Well, you'd better let me out, then."

"Except it's gone critical," the Doctor said, pulling his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his jacket, "Touch one control and it floods. Even this would set it off."

"I'm sorry," Wilf said after looking at the lock on the door.

"Sure," the Doctor replied so softly, the tears filling his eyes. He put his screwdriver back in his pocket and turned away.

"Look," Wilf begged, "just leave me."

"Okay, right then, I will," he replied angrily, "Because you had to go in there, didn't you? You had to go and get stuck, oh yes. Because that's who you are, Wilfred. You were always this-. Waiting for me…all this time."

He couldn't even look at Wilfred. He couldn't let the man see that the decision had been made. But it had. It had been made long before that moment.

"No really," Wilfred said sadly, "just leave me. I'm an old man, Doctor. I've had my time."

"Well, exactly! Look at you!" he railed, "Not remotely important…But me? I could do so much more! So much more! But this is what I get! My reward...Well, it's not fair!" he screamed. When he threw everything off the console in front of him, he was not so much shocked as appalled by his anger. He didn't get angry. He didn't allow the anger any longer. That way led to madness. He looked at Wilfred in the control booth, scared and uncertain.

"I'm still with you, my child," the Archangel said quietly, "I can still help you."

"Oh!" he sighed, "Oh…lived too long."

"Be with me, angel," he said, "I don't know what's going to happen, but I really don't want to go through this alone."

"I am with you, Doctor," the Archangel said quietly, "This is not really the end. You will have your reward…your true reward for what you're about to do.

The Doctor stepped towards the booth and Wilf's eyes teared up, "No. No, no, please, please don't," he begged, "No, don't! Please don't! Please!"

"Wilfred, it's my honour," the Doctor said in reply with his hand on the unoccupied booth's door, "Better be quick!" he said, opening the door and shutting it, "Three, two, one!"

He didn't even have time to see that Wilf made it safely before the fifty thousand rads of energy coursed through his body. He felt the pain, felt the heat, felt his body melting, he turned and was able to see Wilfred's horrified face before he collapsed on the floor…and then he felt no more.

"I promised I would be here," he heard Metatron say from a distance, "You asked me to be with you. I am now a part of you. You have my strengths, but I cannot heal what has been done."

"Not to sound selfish," the Doctor said, "But what about my reward?"

"Rise, child," the angel said, "I will hold off your pain and the deterioration of your cells long enough for you to say your goodbyes."

He began to slowly uncurl, surprised the pain had subsided. He could feel it in the background, but it had felt worse only moments before.

"What?" Wilf said as he got to his knees, "Hello."

"Hi," he said, his voice rough.

"Still with us?" Wilf asked.

"The system's dead," he said in lieu of an honest response as he pulled himself to his feet, "I absorbed it all. Whole thing's kaput," he pressed on the glass door and it popped open, "Oh. Now it opens, yeah."

"Well, there we are, then. Safe and sound. Mind you, you're in hell of a state. You've got some battle scars there."

A small rush of pain hit him and he buried his face in his hands. As he rubbed his hands down to his chin, he felt the sores and scars sear away.

"But they've-" Wilf stuttered, "Your…face. How did you do that?"

The Doctor looked down at his hands, completely free of all blemishes.

"It's started," he replied simply.

Wilfred walked up to him and wrapped his arms around him. The Docotor inhaled deeply and said a quiet _'Thank you' _to the Archangel that now cohabitated his failing body.

Metatron's only response was a very weak "You're welcome…now hurry."

In the moment it took the angel to speak, the Doctor felt all the pain that was being kept from him. He turned out of Wilf's embrace and headed toward the TARDIS.

"Come, come, Wilf!" he said, trying to put on the positive façade for the old man, "Let's go see how the world fared this time!

He landed the TARDIS outside the Noble home. Sylvia was standing at the door as they left the TARDIS.

"Oh, she's smiling," the Doctor said seriously. Sylvia smiling was rare and frightening, "As if today wasn't bad enough…Anyway…don't go thinking this is goodbye, Wilf," he said, his eyes shifting around the neighbourhood, "I'll see you again…one more time."

"What do you mean?" he asked, "When's that?"

"Just keep looking," the Doctor responded, "I'll be there."

"Where are you going?" Wilfred asked.

"To get my reward," he replied sadly, his eyes filling with tears again. He stepped in the TARDIS and took off before Wilfred could see the sorrow in his eyes.

He saved Martha and her new husband, the idiot Mickey from the Sontaran. He pulled Luke out of the path of an oncoming car for Sarah. He set Jack up with Alonso. He met with Joan's beautiful great granddaughter and spoke with her. He went to Donna's wedding and left her a gift. He even got to see Rose before he'd ever really met her. He got his goodbyes. He got his reward.

But he knew time was up. He knew that Metatron, his new hitchhiker couldn't handle much more of the pain he was holding back.

"Let go, friend," he said quietly, "I know it's time and you are tired."

"Yes," Metatron sighed.

The pain became overwhelming. He could barely walk. He put one foot in front of the other as he stumbled toward the TARDIS. He fell in the snow in the middle of the road.

"Do you want to remember, Doctor?" Metatron asked, his voice stronger, "Do you need to keep them in your hearts? Or shall I wipe that memory, those memories? A fresh start? I will be here. I will be your companion in this. But I can take away those memories of hurt and longing."

"If I come back, I don't want to remember them…those I-I'm losing," he said with a grunt, "but I don't want to become like the Master."

"I will not let that happen," the Archangel said, "I will be your compass until you find a new companion. Once you've found the one."

"And once I have?" the Doctor asked, the pain growing more intense, "What happens to you then?"

"I will always be here, but you will know only when you ask for me…I will hide in the corners of your mind unless you talk directly to me. It is all I ask for…all I wish."

"But what about the me I am?" the Doctor asked quietly, suppressing the agony of physical pain he was feeling, "The me I've become? There's too much of me to not remember. If I survive this meltdown, I need to remember who I was."

"Your memories of you…of your previous regenerations will remain, but this one will remain a blur and their faces will not cause you pain."

"Good, then," he said, "Let's get on with it."

When the Doctor looked up, Sigma Ood stood in the middle of street.

"We will sing to you, Doctor," the Ood said sedately, "The universe will sing you to your sleep." He heard the voice of the universe as he stood back up and plodded to the TARDIS. He gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing his steps closer to the TARDIS. Sigma finished his farewell, "This song is ending, but the story never ends."

He closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. He took his coat off and flung it onto the support. As he stepped further into the TARDIS, he saw the regeneration energy beginning in his hands. He set the TARDIS in motion, more concerned that he not be in 2005 when he regenerated than anything else.

"I don't want to go!" he cried, but he knew it was too late.

"I'm sorry, child," Metatron said, coming back stronger, "I cannot hold any more of this back from you."

"I know," the Doctor replied, "It's time."

"I'm sorry," Metatron said sadly, "this is going to hurt."

As the energy flowed through him, it was different this time. Instead of a gentle warmth that overpowered him and gradually changed his face and body, the energy shot out of his body in a huge beam. The power of that energy poked holes in the TARDIS, causing her to rebel and buck and roil. The pain was overwhelming as his body changed and he screamed at the shear agony of it until it suddenly stopped.

"Legs! I've still got legs," he said, kissing his new knee, "Good…Arms…Hands…Ooo, fingers…Lots of fingers," he touched his ears, "Ears, yes. Eyes, two," he touched his nose and measured a remembered distance, "Nose, I've had worse." He touched his chin, "Chin, Blimey! Hair. I'm a girl! No. No. I'm not a girl!" he pulled his longer hair down so he could see, "And still not ginger. And something else…Something important…I'm..I'm…I'm-"

There was a loud crash from deep inside the TARDIS that shook it roughly about.  
"Ha! Crashing!" he shouted excitedly. The Archangel thrilled at the new ability to be excited about impending doom and danger. He helped the Doctor by throwing his energy into flipping switches and keeping the Doctor with the new face standing upright. The Doctor was just as excited, running about, pulling levers and peering at the monitor, laughing all the while. He looked up to the top of the TARDIS as the machine plummeted to Earth and yelled, "Geronimo!"

* * *

_'til next time! Let me know what y'all thought of this insanity, eh?_


End file.
